Munson: Guido was expert in 'art of hospitality'

Apr. 23, 2013
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It was the sort of memorial service where even the guy in the back pew turns out to be retired U.S. Rep. Neal Smith.

Real estate mogul and philanthropist William C. “Bill” Knapp was one of the honorary pallbearers.

Former Gov. Chet Culver also sat in the sanctuary at St. Ambrose Cathedral.

This de facto Democratic caucus gathered Tuesday morning among a who’s who of 200 or so mourners. They offered a final spiritual toast to the restaurateur who had personified fine dining for downtown Des Moines.

This generation fed by Guido Fenu helped grow the Iowa caucuses into a national sport. They also remember the buzz of dinner conversation in the capital before ringing cellphones and text messages stripped away its charm.

When characters such as Fenu lingered at their tables. Where jittery, awkward first prom dates were fawned over just as much as the grizzled Beltway insiders with fat bank accounts.

Fenu died Feb. 13 at age 73 in Santa Barbara, Calif., where he and his wife, Josephine, had lived in retirement for the last decade.

If the assumption today is that we live such digital, disconnected lives, then here was belated outpouring for a man whose business was grounded in an authentic sense of place in the dining room he ruled — down to his thick Italian accent that harkened back to his hometown Tramatza on the island of Sardinia.

Fenu operated a series of Des Moines metro restaurants, most famously Guido’s in the Knapp-owned Hotel Savery until 1993.

The ornate Catholic cathedral — with prime rib lunch afterward at the Des Moines Club on the 34th floor of the Ruan Center — seemed a perfect setting to salute Fenu’s signature “continental elegance.”

The restaurateur left Italy before age 20 and cut his culinary teeth in Switzerland, Berlin and London. He landed in America at New York City but fell in love with the people of Des Moines and Iowa.

“When he first came here he had a problem,” remembered Smith, who helped ensure the Italian chef could legally stay and work here.

When it came to Guido’s, Smith added, “nobody had ever seen anything like that in Des Moines.” The former congressman recalled how Fenu would roll out his cart full of prime rib for diners to choose from.

Father Michael Hess in his homily emphasized that Fenu learned the “art of hospitality” in Europe.

“I say ‘art’ of hospitality because it is an art,” the priest said, “and he developed it to a fine degree.”

At the memorial dinner overlooking downtown, family and friends swapped all the “great Guido stories.”

Debbie Morlan was a young mother with a couple of kids when she first waited tables for Fenu in the late ’70s, and she worked with him for a decade. Above all, her boss taught her how to treat people, she said.

Tracy Knapp, Bill’s niece-in-law, also spent a decade with Fenu.

“I wish I could serve him one more San Pellegrino with a lime,” she said with a wistful smile, remembering his favorite afternoon drink.

One of Fenu’s emphatic nuggets of advice: “You don’t put out fire! You prevent fire!”

In other words, think ahead to avoid a skillet fire, or life’s problems in general.

And just because Fenu was renowned as a gracious host didn’t mean the guy didn’t blow up in your face and scream in broken English. He got upset when his high standards weren’t met.

Fenu’s son, Mario, now a 38-year-old Las Vegas attorney, remembered his father’s response when he mentioned never wanting to follow his old man into the restaurant business.

“Hey, you should be so lucky,” his father admonished him. “I love what I do.”

All these years later, Mario said, he appreciates how his father’s lessons from the restaurant have applied so well to forging a law practice.

“His fortitude,” Mario said of his dad. “Imposing his will. He would not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Shortly before Fenu and his wife had planned to move to California, the restaurateur in July 2003 fell about a dozen feet off a ladder and fractured his spine. He was paralyzed from the waist down but stubbornly forced himself to walk again with canes.

He didn’t do many “sit-down things,” Mario observed wryly.

Mario and his two siblings (Roberto from Des Moines and Sara from California) carried the bread and wine to the altar Tuesday morning for their father’s memorial Mass.

The three priests of course wore white robes, not the black tuxedos of maitre d’s.

The priests kissed the table before they stepped down from the altar — a sign to God and not Guido’s, but apt for a restaurateur’s memorial nonetheless.

Downtown Des Moines’ most distinct and fashionable dining room may be long gone. But the man’s creed can endure.

Stephen Volkmer-Jones, who served as Fenu’s maitre d’ for 13 years, reiterated what I heard from many.

It wasn’t the prime rib or other entrees on the menu at Guido’s so much as the man’s kindness.

Fenu above all taught them how to treat people.

Kyle Munson can be reached at 515-284-8124 or kmunson@dmreg.com. See more of his columns, blog posts and video at DesMoinesRegister.com/munson.